My life in your hands
by Demented Insane Spirit
Summary: Surreal had never had anyone until Daemon, and had mistaken deep, familial love for something else. Now, she knows that only he can help her through this newfound problem of hers. One shot.


DIS: It's a pity there aren't more stories that center around Surreal. I like her even more than Jaenelle or Karla. Something to said there, folks...

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_Title: My life in your hands_

_Rating: K_

_Genre: Friendship_

_Summary: Surreal had never had anyone until Daemon, and had mistaken deep, familial love for something else. Now, she knows that only he can help her through this newfound problem of hers. Drabble._

_Disclaimer: Of course I do not own the ideas, characters, ect. of Anne Bishop's _Dark Jewels Trilogy_. Who would make such a mistake?? (wink)_

_Notes/Warnings: Implied Surreal/Lucivar; friendship; drabble; inspired by Erkith's _**The Predator's Dance**

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_My life in your hands_

They were always protecting each other. It wasn't a known action, but deep down in their subconscious, they knew that they had to it. Ever since the first day they met with Surreal as a young Dea al Mon, bloody and filled with anxiety, a switch had gone off in their brains, making them realize that the world did not have to be as lonely and cruel anymore. Surreal was young; she knew nothing of true cruelty, but it would not be long before she came to face it dead in the face. How could she know, so young and bright-eyed, that Daemon Sadi was the one that everyone referred to as "the Sadist," was what many thought was the very living soul of evil?

There was no way she could. And that was the honest truth.

He was a gentle mentor to her, a soft friend that could help her when she needed it. Like all young girls, she mistook natural friendship to be something else. She heard rumors of his specialties in the bedroom and became infatuated with the idea of him showing her those certain techniques he had that made women dream of him every night. She knew nothing of the tortures he endured, because Daemon, as a means of protecting her naïve soul, refused to allow her the knowledge.

But then that day came when her infatuations ruined her innocence, ruined her romantic thoughts of her mentor. And it had been her fault. She was even aware of that fact. Surreal had learned, however, to never regret; dragging along regrets from the past merely caused problems. That she had somehow managed to regain her pride and confidence was shocking enough. Now, although she trusted Daemon the most, there were now a handful of people that she could call friends. It was strange, because in the past, she could barely even call one person a friend.

And, like always, it was Daemon who she went to when something was troubling her thoughts.

The incident with Falonar had been bad enough for her life, but now that she had managed to escape his somewhat tyrannical company, she found that buried deep in her belly was the feelings for another man; one that she knew she could not possibly be with, one that she knew could not possibly return her feelings. It was no surprise to her that the feelings were directed towards another conceited, bat-winged bastard. Things were so much more complicated with this particular male, though.

Fisting her hands on her hips in a masculine gesture – something that Falonar had always despised – she frowned out along the greenery that framed SaDiablo Hall. Her assassin skills came to such a good use when it came to Daemon. She could hear his soft footsteps that a normal person would be unable to hear. So accustomed to his dark personality, it was if she could sense his very person near her. Daemon, she had learned, knew when it was that she distressed, although that was a mild term for what she was feeling at that instant. "Surreal," his voice slid over her like a satin dress, purring deep in his throat. She turned her head slightly, keeping her face neutral. His mouth was curved in a light smile, but she could see the danger in his eyes.

"Daemon," she responded coolly, her voice matching his silky tone. She turned from him and clenched her fists tighter. She had assured herself only some time earlier that she had ever confidence in confessing herself to her best and truest friend. Unfortunately, and belatedly, she came to the realization that discussing such a personal matter about Daemon's married younger brother may not be the wisest move. _Perhaps I should just keep it to myself, _she mused, then dismissed it instantly. _He already knows that something is on my mind. If I attempt to divert his attention, it will only make him more suspicious and insistent on discovering what I'm hiding. _Depressed by this train of thought, she sought out words to state herself clearly and bluntly. It always worked best on a man such as Daemon Sadi.

"Can you imagine," she asked carefully, with close thought, "what it would be like for me to settle down like you have? – Like everyone has?" She cast a quick glance to him to see the same blank look on his face, as though she had not even spoken. Slowly, she saw a tension building in his shoulders. _What is he thinking? _She wondered, honestly curious.

"Is this, perhaps, a result of your relationship with Falonar?" He calmly queried, his tense, elegant frame betraying the façade. Surreal chuckled darkly, wishing it were only that. But things were not that simple for her anymore.

"Sugar, if it was, I wouldn't bother asking questions. What happened between Falonar and myself is my own problem, got it?" He inclined his head respectfully, accepting her statement, even if grudgingly. She paused a moment, collecting her thoughts before she murmured, "This has nothing to do with Falonar... It has to do with another Eyrien." He made a small, disgusted sound.

"You seem to have a fetish with them."

"...My problem involves your brother, Lucivar." A stillness rippled through Daemon's body as if she had caused him to freeze with her Gray Jewel. But no, it was a mere reaction to her statement and the dread that slammed into him after hearing it. He had seen the signs well enough, had known that the friendliness between Lucivar and Surreal was a bit more. It was hidden well and Lucivar had not made any indication that he intended to move forth with an affair. Surreal, too, had been as guarded as he was with the issues of their more-than-platonic relationship.

"So," Daemon quietly murmured, exhaling softly through his nostrils, willing his body to relax, draining the negative emotions from him as quickly and calmly as possible. "You are in love with him, Surreal?" She stiffened, but gave no indignant exclamation, nor any glare or protest of any sort. Surreal took the truth that slammed into her without a word. That she accepted it so readily made his mouth twist wryly. "He is married...and has a child. Marian will soon give birth to another, as you well know."

"Of course I know," she snarled, whipping around and glaring at him, but with the same pained expression he used to see so many times when she was younger. He never suspected he would be faced with those twisted features again. He had never wanted for there to be a cause for it. "How could I not?" She jerked her arms to her sides, clenching them, her eyes flaming. "Everyone is so excited that Lucivar will be having another child. Marian... She always comes to me and talks. I was the _first one to know_, Daemon. Do you know how this makes me feel?" Surreal could not explain to him how afraid she was of Lucivar's kind, hearth-witch wife discovering her affections for her husband. It would be viewed as a betrayal to Marian. The woman had ascertained that they were close friends, no matter how harsh she had been in the beginning.

Daemon could find no words for her. There was none that he could give. After a long, trembling pause, he inquired, "Why him, Surreal?"

_Yes, _she thought, her temper dissipating, _why him? Why did it have to be him that I want to devote myself to? He is a married man, my most trusted friend's brother, and an Eyrien. Do I purposely hurt myself this way? Do I purposely put myself in the danger of a broken heart? I cannot stand this constant hurt my heart undergoes... Mother Night._

Daemon eyed Surreal's softening expression and knew immediately that this was nothing like the infatuation she had been possessed of with him. This was love, something that he knew Surreal had the hardest time dealing with. She had been abandoned time after time, alone and earning her wages in the most brutal way to protect herself. "Marian should never know of this, Surreal," he concluded. She gave a curt nod, her expression hardening once again. "I suspect that Lucivar knows well of your feelings. He might even return them a bit. He has an obligation, you must understand."

"I do, sugar," she assured, turning to him, her eyes a bit sad. "I do," she repeated, more quietly before she left him. He watched her, feeling as though, for once, she had not been able to find comfort in him. This was not a usual problem, either, so he could not solve it as per usual. With a tiny sigh, he tucked his hands in the pockets of his pants and tipped his head back to watch the clouds float over him.

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Surreal petted Graysfang absent-mindedly, staring across the room at the painting of a beautiful landscape. The desolation and loneliness that had so overwhelmed her since her drop with Falonar had grown worse. It was her own fault, she supposed. She did not quite avoid Lucivar, but their conversations were not as they once were. If she was causing strain, then perhaps it was better. All men made mistakes and she had no desire to cause Lucivar to make one of those.

_Well, how coincidental, _she thought snidely to herself as said Eyrien warrior strolled in, his leathery wings folded behind him. Daemon was only a step behind him. She eyed them warily and then turned back to staring at the painting. Despite Lucivar's presence, she felt oddly calmed by Daemon, Graysfang, and the painting. She would remember what a nice combination it was for when she next felt in such a dismal mood.

Lucivar leaned against the mantle, looking comfortable as he stood there, silent, offering only his company. Daemon sat beside her as she turned her gaze from the painting to Daemon's deep, golden eyes, she knew then that whatever the outcome of the mutual feelings she and Lucivar had for each other, there would be one person she would always have. A smile slipped her mouth upward and he returned it with a smirk and a quirk of his smooth, ebony brow.

"Sugar, you're ass is going to be set on fire if you're not careful," she drawled to Lucivar who snorted and bared his teeth in a parody of a smile as he pushed away from the mantelpiece, a taunting look in his eyes.

_Now, _the brothers thought, _that is the Surreal I know. _

_Finis_

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DIS: For once, I got Lucivar's wings right. Despite how many times people tell me, I always manage to convert them into feathery objects, haha. I always like these Lucivar/Surreal conflicting emotions stories. I'm probably the only who makes them, actually. Anyway, please leave a review and tell me how you liked it. Ciao!


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